An Account of Losses
by Naeth
Summary: A Silmarillion story. Gwindor recalls his losses, from the Nirnaeth up to his death. Rating is expected to climb no higher than 13 for death, violence etc. **CHAPTERS 3-4 NOW UP** R&R please!
1. In the Beginning

**An Account of Losses**

"Gwindor."

_Yes…that was my name…Gwindor…but call me Naeth now, I thought, more than half asleep.__ Sorrow. It would be so wonderful to die now. I fear I weary of my captors' sport before they do. They can and often do their worst and while I live, and can distance myself from it, the pain is still there. But whatever pain they can cause me, I can cause worse for myself. All I must do is think, think of those that died.___

_ My gwador indo*, my brother Gelmir. I can recall his death with a frightening clarity…I saw him brought forth. I watched them cut his hands off…my eyes could not believe what they saw. It could not be, I thought. This is all a dream. They cut off his feet. I felt a sort of…a wave of pain, sympathetic pain, I suppose. His face was pale as the sword was raised again and then…I cannot…cannot continue. That sight will be with me all my life. I screamed- I knew I did, I could not stop it. _

_And as though madness drove me, I dug my heels into my horse. I would slay those who slew my brother. They would pay. They would all pay! At that moment, so intent was I on my revenge I did not realize that I did not attack alone. Later I learned what had happened. Seeing that I rode to my death, my company followed, and the line, the whole line followed my company instead of waiting for Maedhros' forces to make a combined assault on Angband. _

_We swept through our foes like an avenging wind and we scattered them. My company kept up with me well and we reached the very stairs of Angband…and then my rash behavior caught us all up. I shall never forget all of my days, when at last it came down to three others and myself. Elanna, my standard bearer, still carrying my standard somehow, cheerfully dealt death to any that came in range of his dagger. My two best swordsmen also stood with me to the last, Mithnár, and his brother Gilfalas. _

_Gilfalas__ was the first to fall, by a bolt from an orc's crossbow. I remember the strange shuddery sigh he gave as he sank to the ground and Mithnár's pained cry, even as he slew another orc. He had felt Gilfalas die. I had scarcely the time to think on this as I fended off attack after attack. _

_Then Elanna fell. One of the orcs had been skewered by his dagger, but fell forward with his sword onto him. The standard would have fallen, but Mithnár grabbed it, and standard in one hand, sword in the other, he stood, his back against mine. The orcs circled us like carrion birds, waiting. One of them snarled something and I felt, but did not see the bolt that killed Mithnár. _

I felt him falling to the floor, but quickly I turned and got my free hand across his chest, holding him close to me. My sword still threatened the orcs, but I knew that was not to last for long. And so for what seemed a long moment, I held him and watched the light in his eyes become clouded and vanish, and I knew that it was my fault that they had died here, in such a hopeless situation. Then I felt something heavy strike the back of my head, and my last thought was that I would die with them.

"Gwindor!" My eyes flew open as a whip struck my back and I cried out. I had learnt that it did not hurt so much if you did cry out. A rough claw pulled me to my feet. _Yes, let them do that for me. It took a moment to steady myself, but I was not given a moment, and was almost pushed into the back of the captive in front of me, a craftsman of Fingolfin's house named Rannár. "I tried to wake you," he whispered. I nodded absently. _

                Our unwilling labor seemed to take place in the very heart of the earth. We mined for gems and for ores, stripping the earth of all its inner beauty. Thankfully, being raised in Nargothrond, I was not claustrophobic, as some were. But this place was nothing like Nargothrond. It was dark, so very dark, the only light was the little blue lantern that each miner carried. I did not understand the secret of the glowing gem, but then, I did not inquire further. Those that knew the secret were tortured to try to make them reveal it to Morgoth. But none would.

             Rannár caught my eye and almost imperceptibly he motioned for me to follow him. Slowly, very slowly so as not to attract the notice of our guards, I clipped my lantern to my frayed belt and began to work my way towards him. Finally I reached him. His eyes flashed slightly, I thought, but I might have been mistaken. "Gwindor," he whispered. "I have done what I have been trying to for a very long time. It is high time that someone escaped. You will escape."


	2. Escape!

*From the last chapter, _gwador indo_ is 'best friend' in Quenya. Also forgot my disclaimer. Don't own anything except an expired computer and a library card with huge fines. This shall cover the entire story as I will not disrupt it further with legal stuff.

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An Account of Losses: Chapter 2 Escape

Escape! The word seemed to strike me with a confusion of thoughts, and fears. I wished for freedom, dreamed of it, as all, or most did, I was not that badly broken yet, but my years of hard labor had weakened me, and tempered me. I was no longer the rash young commander I had been. A mere ten years, as an hour to my people, had changed me, irrevocably.

"No…" I whispered. "No, Rannár, I want no part of such things," I insisted, fearful.

"Listen to me, Gwindor!" he said, grabbing hold of me roughly. "I have worked hard at this for…" he closed his eyes as if in sudden pain, then opened them to stare at me with hard grey eyes. "Ten years. Ten _years_, Gwindor. I cannot escape now," he looked down at his foot. It had been shattered in the Nirnaeth and mended badly, slowing him down considerably. "You have a family to return to, a love to return to, do you not?"

"Finduilas," the very name, even in the depths was lovely. "Yes," I whispered, feeling almost faint, thinking of her. Ten years could not dull that vision…

"Then you will escape," Rannár said firmly. "Continue further down the tunnel, it slopes upward until it reaches the top, somewhere in the Ard-Galen- or what was the Ard-Galen. I cannot vouch that it is out of sight, but you must try!"

I nodded, then a thought struck me. "But the guards-"

"Leave that to me, Gwindor," Rannár insisted. 

"How can I repay you then, Rannár?" I asked, for now my heart was lightened and I began to entertain the idea that I might escape now, truly I might!  
"Send word to my family, if you escape. Tell them…" Rannár stopped for a moment. "Tell them I love them, tell them to stay free and do not grieve."

I felt a sharp twinge of pain. So he had family too. It was not right that I should go, but I saw from his face that he would brook no argument. He had made his plan, he had worked on this, and he was determined that if he could not escape, someone should. I nodded. "I shall tell them."

"Eru, the Valar…may they all guard and guide you," Rannár said quietly, lifting his hand in a sort of blessing.

"And you," I replied, then slowly began to make my way down the tunnel. I had not gone far, just around a sharp turn, when I felt the rumor of the earth change swiftly, and in fear, I turned- in time to see rocks obscure the only certain exit. "Rannár," I whispered, for I guessed it to be his doing and I did not understand it. Then I realized, slightly belatedly, that it was not to make sure I did not consider going back, but a deception which would hopefully give me time to make my escape without being pursued. "Bless you, Rannár," I whispered and continued through the dark.

I walked for an indeterminable number of hours, the tunnel seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and I was not sure if that was my fear or if Rannár had not been able to widen the tunnel as he went further. Regardless of which it was, I eventually had to rest, worn out. I did not cover my lantern as I usually did when I slept, I needed that light.

I do not know how long I slept, but it was a long time, many hours, at a guess almost a day, it was a nightmare that brought me back to the waking world, dark though it was.

_I stood in darkness, complete darkness, between my guards. I could not see Him, but that did not diminish my fear in the least, it terrified me further. But at the same time, a strange sort of calm gripped me. I had not died with my men, but doubtless, I would die soon, and perhaps be with them…_

"Tell me of Nargothrond."

His voice was terrible, and it seemed to fill all my thoughts. I felt Him try to read me, but did He think me a child that knew little or nothing of the mind? I had locked all my secrets tightly, and only I held the key, only I could unlock them for Him, and I would not.

"Come, tell me of your home. It must be very fair, Gwindor, Guilin's son."

Say nothing…I would say nothing at all. Better, I would laugh at him, but I could not, I feared too much.

"You alone chose this fate for yourself. It would be easier on you- and those dear to you, if you spoke now. For I will learn all I wish to know, Gwindor, and your information will complete what I learned from your brother."

"Gelmir!" I felt horrified, then tried to calm myself. No, no, Gelmir would never, ever tell Him anything. And it was now, that I would have to hold fast, like Gelmir had, like our well beloved Aran Finrod had. I was not as brave, nor was I as strong as either of them had been, but I would have to remember them and say nothing. "You lie!" I said, defiant.

"So, you will suffer, and then break. Noldor…so stubborn. But you will learn humility, and you will learn who is the master of all fates in Arda!"

"Eru is the master of all fates!" I shouted, incensed that he should dare proclaim himself master. "It is He," I continued, loudly. " In the end, He shall see everything put to rights- and you will be in the darkness of the Void with your master forever! You will never-" a guard hit me in the stomach and I doubled over in pain, but in a way, I was glad of it. I was glad that I had spoken, and glad that the guard had struck me, because that I could bear, and I felt if I could bear that one blow that had me doubled over breathless, I could bear any torment they wished to try upon me.

I woke suddenly, midway through the memory of the pain of my first interrogation. I was covered in sweat and felt shaken. At first, I was disoriented, then I remembered I was in the tunnel. I continued onwards. It was dark, always dark. The way I had come from was dark, and ahead of me, I could see no further than the light cast by my lantern.

I walked longer than I had previously, I guessed, but of course, could not be certain, and doubts began to assail me. What if Rannár had been mistaken? What if there was no way out of the tunnel? What if he had trapped me there to die? Frustrated, angry, alone and frightened, I collapsed on the floor of the tunnel and wept bitter tears until sleep took me.

_"Where is the hidden entrance of Nargothrond located?"_

The pain was familiar then, it still hurt, but I grew used to it. Most of the time, I endured it, occasionally, I found relief from it.

"What is the strength of those garrisoned there?"

I could think on Finduilas…her hair, her eyes…her laughter…it was hard, and I wept at times, fearing I would never see her again, but when I thought of her, I knew I would not break. 

"Orodreth- is he a cautious ruler? Does he plan hidden assault or open battle?"

My other option required less effort, but was humiliating. After a time though, I didn't care. All I had to do was relax completely and let the blows fall, the whip sting…and eventually darkness would come, absolute darkness, painless darkness…


	3. In the Open

**An Account of Losses: In the open**

When I woke again, I had resolved that if I had not found the end of the tunnel before I had to rest again, I would lay down and die. I could. It was a…temptation, as it were, something that was always there, just on the edge of thought. There had been times previously that I had been in enough pain that I had considered it, just as seriously as I considered it in the dark of the tunnel. 

But I had always been able to bring myself back to a fairly reasonable state, as reasonable as I was capable of making myself. I reasoned that I could not abandon hope yet, something might happen. Any day, we might be liberated. That was a lie, a lie I told myself over and over again. But more than that, I could not bring myself to will death, knowing that that would be certain separation from Finduilas for a very long time. At least while we both lived we were on the same plain, though there were nights when my addled mind was none too sure of that. But if I could not find the end of the tunnel by the time I needed to rest again, I would take that to mean that there was no way out. And better to die quickly than slowly.

After making such a grave decision, I was determined to carry on as long as I could. I began to notice, in a very vague sort of way that the roof of the tunnel was beginning to slope down- or was it the floor sloping up? Either way, I would continue. It got to the point where I had to crawl on my hands and knees. The stones in the dirt cut them badly and tore my rags even further- it was odd how even when something seemed past repair, you noticed the damage. It was something small to keep your mind off of the bigger, more frightening thoughts.

When I was forced to crawl on my stomach, the thought hit me, that had been lurking so vaguely. _Sloping…the end of the tunnel…it slopes up to the surface!_ Feeling suddenly inspired, I pressed onward, putting my lantern an arm's length in front, pulling myself along and repeating the process. I cannot really recall setting the lantern onto the surface. I know I did it, but the memory of it is not only vague, but beyond my ability to express. I felt light-headed with hope and _freedom_; freedom…that word was intoxicating. 

Then I pulled myself free of the tunnel, and my wits returned. All about me, was bare, empty land, devoid of life, but much more importantly, devoid of cover. I was out in the open and felt naked. Suddenly, I realized that my lantern was a bright spot where, in all likelihood there should be no bright spots. I let the cover fall quickly, and prayed that I had not been seen.

For a moment, I was in a quandary. I had escaped, it still seemed unreal, where was I to go? _Home of course! Nargothrond!_ I began to run. I do not know where I got the strength to run from, only that it was there. I had escaped, and I wanted to get far away quickly. There was something mindless about that run. I knew that I was running, but it did not matter, nothing mattered except that I kept running, did not stop and did not trip. I do not know how long I ran, but I eventually came to cover, some boulders. They were not much, but they hid me.

Time passed in a blur, as I strove to put as much distance as possible between Angband and myself. I recall that I ran and ran, until I could run no more, then I would drop for a few hours of sleep, then continue on. But I grew careless.


	4. Recapture and Escape

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An Account of Losses: Chapter 4 Recapture and Escape

I might have been running for two weeks, or maybe only one. Despite the fact that I could now tell day from night by the sky, I did not keep track of how long I wandered. And as I have said, I grew careless. I lay down to rest in the cover of some boulders and I thought it to be enough, but when I woke, spear points ringed me round. I was so weary and so frustrated I could have cried, but I knew that would only make the situation worse. 

__

Worse, I had thought. _How can it possibly be worse?_

The orcs made camp not far from where they caught me and I wondered that they did not make more sport of me- and was very grateful that they did not- until I saw him. He was tall, with dark hair and strange eyes, and I thought him to be a fellow Noldo at first, with the dark hair and grey eyes. But he was not, I saw, he was mortal. The orcs tormented him fiercely, yet throughout he gave no sign of his pain and occasionally he would try to fight them off, but he tired. So did I- and so did our guards.

I knew I would not go back. Not after I had escaped. I would die first, I thought as I lay on my side, facing away from the orcs. I was ready. And then I noticed something, and but for fear of drawing the guards attention, I would have laughed at myself!

My hands were not shackled, nor tied to anything. Apparently the guards had thought I was so beaten that cord would hold me- and remembering being almost dragged to camp, I could see why. But they did not know my endurance or my determination. It was the work of about ten minutes to weaken the cord enough to snap it, though my wrists ached unmercifully. Now to get past the sentry-wolves.

I watched and judged my time as best I could, crawling as quickly as I dared, flat against the ground. If a wolf noticed me, I would spring up and run, but eventually it would run me down. A wolf began to approach and I was ready to spring. 

__

I would rather take my chances with wolves than orcs. Wolves remember less often than orcs that prisoners are to be brought back alive and relatively intact, I thought.

But thank the Star-Lady, he turned, seeming disinterested in my direction. As soon as I felt I was out of eyesight from the camp, I ran. I ran as I had run before, seemingly tireless, not knowing where I drew the energy. 

The forest that I had noticed vaguely before in the camp loomed up now, black and menacing, but I did not care. The forest would be cover, and if I feared it, perhaps the orcs and wolves would fear it more and leave me be. A last burst of energy and then I collapsed beneath a gnarled old tree and caught my breath. Over the roaring noise of my breathing, I tried to listen for sounds of pursuit, but I heard none. I relaxed completely, uncaring if there were foes in the forest. I had escaped the camp and that was enough. I was so tired. Almost before that thought registered, I slept soundly, dreamlessly in darkness.


End file.
